


Follow You Through The Dark

by thedeviltohisangel



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: F/M, Musicians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 20:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18185075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeviltohisangel/pseuds/thedeviltohisangel
Summary: Musician AU; Michael Langdon is hellbent on achieving his dream of being a musician. Grace Hall is hellbent on surviving her life in the mold her parents have set for her. What happens when the two cross paths on a sidewalk in New York City?





	Follow You Through The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Smut warning

“Lie down, baby,” he whispered against her cheek as her breath began to slowly even out. Now that she was calm, she felt like a tool. Especially compared to Michael. He was in his usual nighttime attire of sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips and no shirt. 

“No! God, Michael, aren’t you even going to try and fight for me?” Abruptly, the air around them shifted. Her arms pushed outwards from where they had been wrapped around herself and the thrust was enough for Michael to stumble back slightly. “I just threw away everything for you!”

“Your parents will forgive you and take you back in a heartbeat. Their little fucking princess.” Now Michael was getting angry. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight. He had made the decision to not go to her parents charity gala for her own benefit. Anywhere he went with her was accompanied by stares and whispers.  _ Did you see that boy? He’s wearing an earring. Isn’t his hair a bit shaggy for an event like this? Do you think she had to help him with the tie? _ It was agonizing to know the woman he loved was spoken of so poorly simply because of his presence. “I took a step back for you! If you stopped being a brat long enough to realize-”

“So now you’ve reduced yourself to name calling? Where’s the poetic songwriter now?” she huffed. They stood in silence, holding each other’s gaze for a moment, before she gathered her red skirt in her arms and began to march back towards her car. Stupid Michael Langdon. It was as though every time she interacted with him, he was trying to make her regret the day she had stumbled upon him on the sidewalk. Constantly infuriating is how she would describe him. One minute he was writing love songs and making her see stars and having her believe that life in the back of his van could be everything she ever wanted and more. He had made her believe in love and perhaps that was the worst mistake she made.

“Grace! Stop!” She tried to ignore him. She really did, kept on marching towards her car and the escape from this cycle that it offered. “Don’t...don’t fucking run away from us like that.” He sounded exasperated when he finally reached her. 

“You’re the one who has been running, Michael. Every time I take a step forward in your life, you take a step back from mine. It’s breaking my heart.”

“I hear everything those people say about me, about you. It makes me sick to think that people view you like they do just because you showed up to an event with me on your arm. I don’t want that life for you. I thought by stepping away, I was protecting you.”

“You’re not. You’re hurting me.” She took a step closer to him and his hands came to cup her cheeks. “You told me to fuck them all. That the boundaries of that life were too small for a mind like mine. Remember?” Michael smiled. He had a habit of ranting and waxing poetics whenever he was around her. He couldn’t help it. She was his muse. 

“Of course I remember. I wrote a song about you that night.”

“Well, now I’m finally following your advice. I’m going to do what makes me happy. Not what makes my parents happy. And, for starters, being with you is what makes me happiest.” Grace didn’t divulge her feelings often or easily. It was hard to when the man you loved and were in a relationship with did so. Michael expressed himself so clearly and eloquently through his music. She could never find the words to explain how much she loved him in the same ways he did for her. It was daunting to try and compare. 

“I’m happiest when I’m with you, too.” There were so many words that Michael could use to describe the way he felt when he was with Grace; at peace, alive, elated, but he knew how trying to express himself in that way shut her down. And she was being open and vulnerable with him. He didn’t want her to close that door quite yet.

“Then let’s just focus on being happy together. We can compromise on things like galas and dive bar tours and where to sleep at night. I love you, Michael, I’m in love with you.” He dropped his hands to intertwine them with hers, bringing one to his lips for a kiss.

“Is anything ever that simple with us, Grace?” Michael wishes his mind would let him just embrace this new take on life that she had. That he could just profess his love for her and hold her forever and just live his life in a bubble of her. 

“No. But that is precisely what makes it so worth fighting for. I’m not saying it won’t be hard some days but...that last piece of me that was holding onto the life my parents want me to lead, is gone. Shattered the moment I went tonight and felt like half of me was missing. You’re the other half. My other half.” For so long their worlds had kept them apart. Hers was filled with pearls and fake smiles and expectations that could almost never be reached. His was wandering and wondering and writing. They weren’t supposed to work together. Hell, they weren’t even have supposed to cross paths let alone fall in love. 

“You love me, Grace Hall?” It was partially teasing, Michael knew she loved him, but he wasn’t used to her saying it. She had been raised to keep her emotions to herself, never let anyone in. It was frustrating for someone like him who found joy and solace in putting his thoughts and feelings out there for the world to see. He had never wanted to ask her to say it more. Never wanted to force her to express herself in a way that wasn’t natural. 

“I know I have trouble expressing how I feel to you and I know you deserve better than a girl who-”

“I barely deserve you,” he whispered. “You’re everything to me. The past year, that’s all I’ve been trying to prove. We’ve both made some mistakes along the way. But that’s what a real relationship is. Real love isn’t perfect. It’s jagged and cuts and stings and-” He pulled away while holding his breath.

“Go write your song, loverboy,” she chuckled as he quickly jogged back to his van so he could grab his notebook and a pen.

“Just a couple lines, baby, I promise I’ll be quick.” Grace walked over to where he was sitting on the back bumper, listening to him hum as he tapped a pen against his lips and jotted down some words. “I’ve been having trouble writing recently. I’ll write a verse here and there or a chorus but have nothing to put around it. Then you show up here in your Victoria Beckham gown and it’s like I see the world in color again.” That urged another scribble onto the page. 

“It’s kind of daunting to be someone’s muse, you know. What if one day I stop inspiring you?” She sometimes worried that the basis of their relationship was her ability to make the music come out of him. There was no way of knowing if that would happen forever.

“You, my dear Grace, are constantly growing and changing. As any human being does. The love of ours that I write a song about today could be a completely different love when we go to bed tomorrow. Our foot never steps into the same river twice. I think love is the same way.” Another scribble. 

“You ease my worries like you were meant to,” she whispered.

“That’s a good line, baby, thank you.”

“Well, give me writing credit if you use it,” she giggled as she crawled in next to him. She peered over his shoulder cautiously. Sometimes he was adamant that she not read anything he had written. That she wait until is was ready to be sung and performed. Michael always wanted her to get the full experience. He also felt that, when he sang, he could really portray the emotions behind the lyrics in a way that just having them on the page couldn’t. “I missed you tonight.” It had been the whole reason that she had sped her way to the beach where his van was currently parked. Had left the gala in a flurry of her red skirt and the gasps of others around her. Grace had always had a reputation of being the perfect daughter. She had been Valedictorian of her boarding school, graduated from an Ivy and was working her way up the corporate ladder in order to inherit her father’s company one day. Running out of galas was not in line with her usual behavior.

“If we mean everything we said tonight, you won’t have to miss me ever again.”

“You mean that?” It felt like they were professing their love for each other all over again. It was a re-commitment of sorts. Up until this point, something invisible had been holding each of them back from truly giving their all to the passion and chemistry and love that was between them. Maybe tonight, all of that could change.

“I would never say something to you that I didn’t mean, Grace. You deserve honesty and validity. I respect you and love you too much to ever speak behind a veil.” She pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder, Michael turning his head so he could capture her lips with his own. “I pledge my heart to you,” he whispered as he nose nuzzled against hers. It was the most sacred thing he could ever give her. And he did so willingly. Joyfully.

“I’ll take good care of it,” she smile, “as long as you promise to take good care of mine.”

“Promise.” He returned her smile before he leaned in for another kiss. She held him firmly by the back of his head and slipped her tongue between his lips. Michael groaned in response, it had been a few nights since he had last seen her and his body was letting him know that it had been too long. Gently, he placed his notebook on the side before leaning over her until her back hit the mattress.

“Aren’t you going to the shut the door?” she mumbled against his lips. They chuckled as he quickly removed himself from her to shut the side door to the van, attaching his lips back to hers like there hadn’t even been a pause. His hand fisted the waist of her dress and began to pull up with the aim of exposing more of her skin to him. Once it had gathered around her hips, his hand firmly wrapped around her thigh and pushed it to the right so he could settle in between her legs. Her own arms reveled in the bare skin of his back was already open and available to her. They moved steadily down his back to slip past the waistband of his sweatpants and grab at the supple flesh of his bottom. He moaned against her jaw and the grip on her thighs tightened as lust began to cloud his thoughts. 

“Roll over,” he whispered. Grace did as instructed, Michael’s calloused fingers finding the zipper to her gown easily and sliding it down. His lips, tongue and teeth followed it’s path and marked the skin that became exposed to him. A trail of hickey’s was left in his wake. They line up along her spine like a hidden message of his love for her. “Lift your hips.” Once she did so, he was able to shimmy the dress down and toss it to the side.

“Michael! That’s expensive! You can’t just-” A quick slap to her backside quieted her cries of protest.

“The only sounds I wanna hear coming out of you are your pretty little moans, got it?” Grace nodded. “Good. Now let me look at your pretty little pussy.” She went up to her hands and knees so her glistening core was perfectly level with Michael. Many had referred to him as a maestro when he sat behind the piano or began to move his fingers against the strings of his guitar. Grace thinks it’d be more fitting to call him a maestro when he had a wet pussy waiting for him to play it. Michael joked once that the sounds she made whenever his head was between her legs were the melody to his life. He licked slowly, savoring the taste of her. Once her essence hit his tongue it was like a tablet of ecstasy. Every nerve ending in his body was lit on fire and not a thought entered his mind that wasn’t concerned with pleasing her. 

“Up a little bit...to the right,” she whispered from where she had rested her cheek against his pillow so she could watch him work between her legs. There was a particular sweet spot on the side of her clit she was hoping he was working towards. He knew exactly where it was, didn’t need her to tell him. It was sweet, he thought, that she thought he didn’t know or that she was trying to ignore the fact that he was hellbent on teasing her.

“I know where it is.” Grace hadn’t known when she first met him but Michael had been somewhat famous within his circle not only for his love songs but for his sexual prowess and knowledge. She had been told that, more than once, he could be found at a dive bar with a cigarette between two fingers having an in depth conversation with a fellow patron about the beauties of pleasing a woman properly. There was always something elusive and intricate about Michael. Grace thinks she’s going to spend the rest of her life trying to figure him out. “Tell me how this harmony sounds.” His lips enclosed around her precious pearl and he began to hum. What a fucker.

“Fuck that feels good.” Her hips began to rock back against his lips, his hands tightening their grip around her thighs as a signal to stop. Be patient. He made sure to keep his eyes locked on hers. Michael thoroughly enjoyed watching her expressions as he feasted on her like he had just come stumbling out of the desert, her wetness an oasis. It was like a fountain of youth. He was constantly in search of the inspiration that flowed from her but found so much thrill in the chase. “I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum.” He knew she was close as her pussy began to flutter around his mouth and her juices flowed faster. Pressing his lips and tongue in deeper, he played her harder and faster until she was falling apart like a symphony before his eyes. Finally, he came up for air and watched Grace absorb and relax into the after effects of the orgasm he had given her.

“You sleepy, baby?”

“Not sleepy enough to let your cock throb in your pants like that.” The bulge straining the fabric of his sweats was too tantalizing to ignore. “Let’s consummate our new beginning,” she teased as he leaned over to peck her lips. Michael quickly ridded himself of his sweatpants and lined up with her entrance.

“To new beginnings and them lasting forever.” And with his toast, he fit inside her perfectly. The last piece of the puzzle put into place.

 

\----

 

Grace woke up a few hours later to find that the man she had gone to bed with was no longer next to her. And considering she couldn’t see him anywhere else in the small van, she assumed he must’ve left to go sit on the beach. She rummaged through his chest of clothes, tossing on a pair of his boxers and a shirt before she opened to the door to go and join him. 

“I thought you were quitting that?” He was sat atop a picnic table smoking a cigarette with his notebook in my lap.

“Snuff it out for me?” He handed her the object which she took and brought to the disposal unit by the garbage.

“We can’t have nearly enough of our forever if you keep smoking,” she pointed out as she sat behind him, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders. 

“I’ll try harder,” he promised. 

“Is the song you’re writing gonna be good enough to warrant me waking up alone in a cold bed?” she teased as she kissed the soft spot behind his ear. 

“I think it’ll be for you and you only so…” Sometimes Michael kept his most personal of songs to himself. The vulnerability reflected in them was not for just anyone to hear and interpret. The ones about Grace, the most personal and vulnerable of them all, were sometimes shared with just her. When he couldn’t find the words to tell her how he felt, he would write them down and sing them to her. Through a song was how he had first told her he loved her. 

“Is it selfish that those are the ones I love the most?”

“No. I think love is a deeply personal thing. The way I feel about you and how I wish to communicate that isn’t for anyone else to be a part of if we don’t want them to..”

“I like that. Thank you. For writing such beautiful things about me and making me feel as though I deserve them.” Her cheek rested flat against his back and she took a deep breath of the salty air coming off the water. “I love you, Michael Langdon. I’ll love you forever.”

“I love you, Grace Hall, for as long as the music I write is in the universe, our love will live on.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna do this in my usual not chronological one shot format so please send ideas! Hope you enjoy!


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